


portami dove non mi posso alzare

by flashforeward



Category: Il buono il brutto il cattivo | The Good The Bad and The Ugly (1966)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, This Movie Needs More Women, Yuletide 2020, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28179384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: In which Angel Eyes is just trying to do a job without getting shot, Tuco and Blondie are in some trouble, and the black is both too big and not big enough.
Relationships: "Blondie" | The Man with No Name/Tuco Ramirez
Comments: 10
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sybilius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybilius/gifts).



> Thank you to [redacted] for the beta!
> 
> Thank you to awesome twitter friend for translating the title for me.
> 
> Title translation: "take me where I cannot stand"  
> (direct translation: "take me where I cannot rise")
> 
> Thank you to Sybilius for the excellent prompt! I was just looking at prompts people had posted wondering if I could write any treats and I was so excited to see yours because a Firefly!Dollars AU is something I've toyed with previously so I knew I had to give it a go. I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

He tugged his hat down lower over his forehead as he stepped from the ship into the bear-down sun, but he still had to squint. The brim could only do so much and while he appreciated the work it did to keep the sun off he’d still prefer not having to stop over on this rock on the regular. Who decided this needed to be a hub of commerce in the inky black? Some bored Alliance stooge, most like, wanted to get back to the central planets quick as possible and leave the Rim to itself. As if the mines out here weren’t shipping load after load into _civilization_ , bought up at the lowest price possible while the miners languished.

He blinked away the thought. Whatever the case, however the Alliance may operate, Persephone rests on the boundary, a liminal space between the Central and Rim planets and if he even wanted to consider less questionable employment he couldn’t bypass the planet altogether, not even for cooler climes and a less punishing sun.

Besides, Persephone had the cheapest fuel stations in the Rim. He sent Wallace off with the skiff to negotiate refueling and to pick up some spare parts with what little coin they have to spare. He knew he should meet with their contacts here, see if there are any jobs waiting. It had been a lean few months and they could use the pay. Besides, he had a message from Baker a few days back saying there was something on the horizon perfect for him and his crew.

But the thought of venturing out into the heat, the oppressive burn, it was too much right that second. So instead he marked the ship as available for passengers and set up a few chairs in the ship’s hulking shadow. Shorty joined him a few minutes later and they sat in companionable silence, watching the bustle of Persephone’s ship yard.

Just as he was starting to relax, his comm set up let out a shrill, persistent beep and with a sigh he answered the call, straining to listen to Baker’s staticky voice as the other man asked if he wanted this damn job or not because there was a line out the door for it but Baker wanted Angel Eyes to have first crack.

“Shorty,” he said, standing. Didn’t need to elaborate, Shorty just gave a nod and Angel Eyes set off into the oppressive glare.

–

It was as Angel Eyes disappeared into the crowd that the first passenger arrived. A short man with broad shoulders, a sunburnt face, and shaggy hair and beard that did nothing to hide his scowl. Shortly pushed himself more upright as the man approaches, glancing around him as though expecting he’ll be stopped. Not a good start. Passengers were for looking less suspicious, not more, and Shorty wasn’t about to rent a room to anybody up to worse than they were.

“Got room for cargo?” the man asked as he came up to Shorty, growling around an unlit cigar. “Only I got some important specimens need special handlin’. That something you folk can do?”

Shorty gave a sharp nod. “ _Il Bruto_ has plenty of cargo space,” he said. He gestured to the passenger manifest clipped to one leg of _Il Bruto_ ’s landing gear. “Go ahead and enter yourself and your cargo, it’d take me too long to get up there.” He lifted himself by his arms and swung a little to demonstrate why, then dropped back down onto his chair. “What’s your name, friend?”

“Tuco Ramirez,” the man said, squinting at the manifest display and slowly typing in his information.

“Well, Tuco, welcome to _Il Bruto_! You can call me Shorty. Captain’s out at the moment but he should be back soon enough. I can help get you settled right enough, but we won’t be able to get your cargo loaded ’til Wallace gets back with the skiff.”

Tuco grunted acknowledgment and Shorty propelled himself down from his chair to lead the way into the ship.

Tuco stayed back a little, following Shorty onto the ship rather than pushing ahead. Shorty took that as a good sign. Said a lot about the fellow’s character. There was a chair tucked in the back corner of the cargo room that Shorty used when he had to go planetside, but he preferred using his own power on ship – for one thing, the lifts were unreliable and for another he could take his shortcuts. Tuco also didn’t make any comment about how Shorty got around, holding himself up with his arms and swinging his torso forward. Another good sign.

“This is where any cargo is stored,” he said, pausing to gesture at the vast space. There were a few crates towards the back, items they hadn’t been able to sell as yet, but otherwise it was fairly empty. Shorty swung himself along to a hatch under the stairs and through into the corridor. “Down the hall there is medical, and these are the guest quarters,” he said, gesturing to the four rooms on either side of the corridor. “There’s a staircase back by medical that takes you up to the kitchen and lounge areas, since we don’t let passengers in the cargo bay during flight.”

Tuco’s scowl deepened. “I’m gonna need to check on my cargo,” he said.

Shorty shrugged. “Take it up with the captain,” he said, swinging himself around. “C’mon, you’d better get your luggage and cargo ready to load for when Wallace gets back.” He led the way back out of the ship, into the glaring of Persephone’s sun, and saw another potential passenger was waiting. He smiled and climbed back up into his chair, watching Tuco out of the corner of his eye as the other man disappeared back into Persephone’s crowds.

He’d have to watch that one or there’d be trouble.

–

Baker’s job was, as expected, less legitimate than he’d made it sound.

Angel Eyes wasn’t thrilled about it but he’d been stiffed on half the pay for their last job and needed cash if he wanted to pay his crew. And he definitely wanted to pay his crew. He was scowling when he got back to the ship. Wallace was loading passenger luggage and cargo and Angel Eyes flagged him down to tell him where to pick up their cargo for the job – transporting stolen rations to Maria’s backwater moon.

Stolen Alliance issued rations on a ship full of passengers.

“Walk with me,” Angel Eyes said as he passed Shorty, who immediately swung down from his chair and propelled himself into the ship. He kept fairly good pace with Angel Eyes as they made their way up to the cockpit. “Passengers?” Angel Eyes asked.

“Tuco Ramirez, going to Mission with some Cargo. Elam, also going to Mission, pretty sure he’s Alliance. And the last fellow just goes by Padre, apparently he’s a priest of some sort.”

“Alliance?” Angel Eyes asked.

Shorty shrugged. “He didn’t say as much, but he has a bearing,” he said. “I also think he’s after whatever Ramirez has, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the man. And it ain’t because of his looks, neither.”

Angel Eyes nodded slowly, mulling over the information. He stepped aside and let Shorty swing into the cockpit first, then followed him in. Clem was already at the controls, gearing up the ship for take-off. “Change of plans,” Angel Eyes said, leaning against the co-pilot’s console. “We’re visiting Maria first.”

“Sad Hill?” Clem asked, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you almost die last time we went there?”

Angel Eyes shook his head. “Don’t we all almost die most places?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Start her up, Clem. Soon as the cargo is secure, I want to be in the air.” He blew out a sigh and shook his head, looking over at Shorty. “Stolen cargo with passengers, and an Alliance man at that?”

Shorty shrugged. “Sorry, boss, you said anyone who could pay.”

He had at that.

He blew out a sigh and straightened. “Shorty, gather our guests in the kitchen soon as they’re ready, I want to have a short chat with them. Clem, get us in the sky and give Maria a call. It’s better if it doesn’t come from me.”

This was going to be a long trip.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuco gnawed at his cigarillo, glaring at the door to his room and contemplating his options.  The captain of this ship, a severe man named Angel Eyes, had met with Tuco  and one of the other passengers – a twitchy, nervous fellow named Elam –  to lay out the ground rules of the ship.  The other passenger, who Tuco hadn’t seen and only knew of as Padre, had apparently had some praying he needed to do  in his room and Angel Eyes would talk to him separate .

The rules were a ll fairly common sense and Tuco  had only  partially listened .  Till the man got to the bit about no passengers being allowed in the cargo bay during the trip.

He’d been warned, of course, the engineer, Shorty, had told him as much but he’d rather hoped the head honcho might conveniently forget. It wasn’t that Tuco didn’t understand the importance of security one a ship like this – it was highly likely that this crew was up to something the Alliance wouldn’t like too much – but he also had his own business he had to take care of. Most notably, keeping an eye on his cargo.

There were only two people in the world Tuco Ramirez trusted, and he was the only one here.

T hat cargo was delicate and needed a gentle touch, but Tuco’s was going to have to do. He checked the ship’s time on the small clock embedded in the wall by his bed and blew out a breath of smoke.  He’d give it a few hours and then meander out into what would hopefully be a sleepy ship to  take a short walk among the cargo, have a look at his own luggage and then, maybe, see if he could sniff out whatever  it was  the lowly passengers weren’t supposed to find.

Til then...well. He tipped his hat down over his eyes and closed them to the darkness there. A nap never hurt anybody.

–

Elam sat with the door to his room slightly ajar, data-pad on his lap with all the information he needed  to complete this particular mission. He’d read it through multiple times now, mostly because his quarry hadn’t done anything all day. Not since the meeting in the kitchen with the captain, Angel Eyes.  _Il Bruto_ was a small ship and Elam knew he couldn’t tail anyone on it without giving himself away, so he’d set up a watch post in his room and waited.

And waited.

Almost fallen asleep he’d had to wait so long.

According to the files, Ramirez was supposed to be impulsive and Elam had assumed that would carry over into this mess.  He still wasn’t sure how the man had managed to evade him long enough to get to Persephone and book passage on another ship. Either they’d underestimated the man or the quarry had made the plan before all this had started.

Given what Elam knew about his quarry – what little he was allowed to know – that was the more likely possibility.

Still, Ramirez wasn’t as stupid as Elam had assumed and he was going to have to keep a closer eye on the man. No one had expected him to succeed in the first place, let alone get as far as he had, with or without someone else putting the plan together.  So Elam sat and kept himself awake  by rereading reports and  keeping an eye on the room across the hall.

He’d almost given up for the night when Tuco finally slid the door open and peeked around the night-dim hall. Satisfied, he headed carefully and quietly towards the cargo bay. Elam waited until he could be certain Tuco was out of the hall, then followed.

He peered into the cargo bay and saw Tuco exactly where he’d expected, bending over the box Wallace had loaded up for him hours ago. A box that contained one of the most important commodities the Alliance had ever created. Elam slipped his gun from the holster hidden at his back and crept forward.  He rounded the stairs, stepping out of the shadow, and cleared his throat.

Tuco looked up,  straightened , stepped back a little with his hands up and that obnoxious grin Elam knew so well from the man’s mug shots.

“Tuco Ramirez, you are bound by law to stand down,” Elam said

“What’s going on here?” A voice from behind Elam, low and smooth. Elam didn’t look, didn’t have to, could tell it was Angel Eyes.

“Stay out of this, Captain,” Elam called over his shoulder, keeping his attention fixed on Tuco. There was no telling what Ramirez might get up to if Elam didn’t watch him closely. “Ramirez, turn yourself in, put an end to this.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Ramirez said through that infuriating grin.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult, Ramirez.”

“It really does, actually.” Tuco took a step forward.

E lam brandished his gun and Tuco froze again. “Just turn yourself in, give back what you stole, and it’ll all go better for you.”

Ramirez shook his head. “Can’t do that, friend,” he said. “And I didn’t  _steal_ anything, I’ll have you know.”

“That’s Alliance property you have in there,” Elam said, nodding towards the box.

Ramirez’s grin fell, finally, replaced with a scowl. But before he could say anything, a hand came down hard on Elam’s wrist, pushing his arm down and deftly twisting his hand so he had to drop the gun or hurt himself.

Angel Eyes loomed over him, glaring as he kicked the gun away. “ Now that I have your attention, why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on here?” he asked.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Elam said, forcing the words out past clenched teeth as Angel Eyes twisted his wrist further, pain shooting up his forearm.

“You’re threatening my passengers on my ship, it absolutely concerns me.”

Elam jerked back, pulling his arm away gritting his teeth against the pain as he spat out, “You think I don’t know whatever job you’re running isn’t some philanthropic enterprise? Keep your nose out of this and maybe, just maybe, I won’t take you in as well.”

Much to Elam’s chagrin, Angel Eyes didn’t seem even remotely perturbed by the threat. A second later, as Wallace’s thick forearm wrapped quickly around Elam’s throat from behind and squeezed the world black, Elam understood why.

–

Wallace disappeared back towards the guest rooms, Elam slung over his shoulder, and Tuco guessed this ship didn’t have a brig. Made sense, it wasn’t a big ship. Honestly he  had been lucky they had guest quarters.

Angel Eyes strode forward, gaze fixed on Tuco, and stopped next to the cryo-pod. “What’s this, then?” he asked.

“Don’t open it,” Tuco said with a shake of his head. Angel Eyes placed a hand on Tuco’s chest and shoved, sending him stumbling backwards, and bent towards the pod. Ignoring Tuco’s cry of protestation, he punched followed the release sequence instructions and lifted the handle, the cryo-pod’s lid giving a hiss as it unsealed. He looked up, met Tuco’s wild eyes, and sent the lid sliding off with a solid kick. He turned his head, looked down at the body curled up inside, and all he had were three words: “What the hell?”


	3. Chapter 3

There were three words Tuco had been dreading since they’d made their escape. They were not, in fact,  _What the Hell_ , but they were the three words that came  _next_ . As Angel Eyes turned away from the cryo-pod, away from the most important part of Tuco’s life, and stalked towards Tuco with a scowl dark on his face, he growled out those three words with such menace and purpose that Tuco almost gave in right then: “You best explain,” he said.

And if, at that moment, the man in the cryo-pod hadn’t sat up with an audible breath and startled  them ,  drawing Angel Eyes’s attention back to him, Tuco might have just told  the captain everything.

But,  as usual , Blondie saved him in the nick of time.

–

Blondie was dressed in some old clothes Tuco had brought along for him and sat quietly at the kitchen table next to Tuco  with Angel Eyes and his crew  standing  across from them,  glaring down . Angel Eyes’ s look in particular made Tuco squirm and he was impressed that Blondie seemed to be able to not only sit straight and dignified but also hold the man’s gaze.

Then again, Blondie was always better at disguising what he was feeling that Tuco was.

“What the hell was that all about?” Angel Eyes asked, pressing his palms flat on the table and leaning forward. “And if you’re thinking of prevaricating, I highly recommend you take a look out the window and ask yourself how much you’d like to go for a walk right now.”

“Cap’n,” Shorty said, but he didn’t continue when Angel Eyes shot him a glare, just sat back in his chair and waited for the scene to play itself out.

Tuco studied Angel Eyes and Wallace’s glares and the concerned glances Clem and Shorty kept shooting at each other, and he knew he didn’t have a whole lot of choice  in this matter .

He glanced at Blondie who seemed very interested in the scratches on the wooden tabletop, then pulled in a deep breath, met Angel Eyes’ gaze, and told as much of the story as needed to be told.

–

Things left out: it  started  as a con.

Things included: Blondie contacted the Alliance based on a recruitment ad for  a new system they were developing. Went in, went silent, Tuco was worried. Blondie managed to get a coded message out, Tuco went in and got him, smuggled him out and now. Now here they were, on the run.

–

“And now you’ve dragged me and mine into this mess?” Angel Eyes asked. He was still standing, still looming over them and glaring down.

“We just want to get to Mission and be on our way,” Tuco said. “My brother lives there and-” He stopped, gaze flicking to the doorway where a familiar form lurked in the dim light. “Pablo?” he asked, voice a hoarse whisper.

This was too much.

“Tuco,” Pablo Ramirez said with a nod, striding into the kitchen. He studied his brother and the man beside him and shook his head. “I knew this _Blondie_ would bring you nothing good.”

“Wasn’t him,” Tuco said, immediately defensive. “It’s that damned Alliance.”

Pablo shook his head, expression sad and tired. “Tuco, they are the ones who told me to expect you,” he said. “They warned me you had gotten yourself into some trouble.”

Tuco stood, spat on the floor. “Bastards!” he shouted, voice harsh in the small space. “They just want their property back. But do you know what their property is, Pablito?” Tuco stalked forward as he spoke, driving his brother back towards the door from whence he’d come. “ _Human being_ _s_ , my brother. Tortured and tormented and broken, but human beings  still .” He turned his back on Pablo and gazed at Blondie, still staring down at the table. 

He clenched his fists at his side, anger boiling through him. Anger at the Alliance, at Pablo for having hidden his presence and for believing the Alliance, at Elam, at Angel Eyes and his crew and their judgmental stares.

“I will not let them have him,” he whispered to the shocked silence around him. “He will never go back.”

–

Wallace  had locked Elam in his room for later interrogation, chained him to the hull he said.  Tuco and his...luggage were back in  his room and the Padre was still in the kitchen,  _Putting together something for breakfast,_ _Captain_ . Angel Eyes leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair and stared up at the stars surrounding them. Clem, thankfully, didn’t feel the need to say anything. 

–

Tuco sat in the chair, watching Blondie’s fitful sleep, cup of shit coffee tepid and stomach churning in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said, over and over again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

–

Blondie knew someone was at the door before he even knocked. Tapped gently at Tuco’s knee to rouse him from his half-sleep just as the gentle rap began. Tuco rubbed sleep from his eyes and called out for whoever it was to come in, and the door slid back to reveal Pablo, a couple bowls of some unappetizing looking porridge cradled in his left hand.

Tuco snorted. “If you think feeding me will make me forgive you-”

Pablo shook his head and handed a bowl to Tuco, setting the other on the small ledge by the bed for whenever Blondie was awake enough to eat it –  he seemed to have fallen back asleep, thankfully it was much more peaceful than his earlier doze had been. So far, anyway.

Tuco glared at the porridge, but he was hungry and it didn’t smell awful. He put his cup aside and dug in, ignoring his brother standing awkwardly before him, hoping maybe Pablo would decide to go away and leave them alone.  Of course, Pablo was not obliging. 

“What do you want?” Tuco asked when he’d finished eating, shoving the empty bowl back at Pablo who took it gently.

“I heard what you told the Captain.”

“It’s the truth!”

Pablo held up a hand, stalling Tuco’s defensive tirade before it could really get started. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” he said. “But there was more to it than you told, wasn’t there?”

Tuco couldn’t meet his gaze, but that was answer enough.

“Tuco, I’ve told you where these choices would lead you.”

Tuco’s head shot up, eyes narrowed as he stood, glaring his brother down despite being the shorter of the two. “Are you saying he deserved it, whatever they did?” he asked. “They _hurt him_ , Pablo. Whatever they did, whatever they’re doing, they _damage_ people!”

Pablo’s gaze shifted, looked down at Blondie  who appeared to be sleeping peacefully, the quirk of a smile on his lips the only hint Tuco had that he wasn’t actually asleep at all. “No,” Pablo said after a moment. “No, I’m not saying he deserved it. But Tuco,” he looked back at his brother, “do you understand how your choices led in some way to this?”

Tuco didn’t answer, didn’t have an answer. Pablo took the empty bowl and left Tuco alone with Blondie, who sat up as soon as the door was closed and began to eat his own porridge. After a moment, Tuco sat beside him,  close enough their shoulders brushed but not as close as he may have before all of this, before the job and the Alliance and whatever they had done to Blondie, to his mind.

“Are you all right?” Tuco asked.

Blondie shrugged.

“I missed you,” Tuco whispered. They were not men who frequently discussed their feelings. Their relationship was a quiet one, particularly on Blondie’s part, and for all of Tuco’s bluster he was an expert at saying nothing with a lot of words. Emotions, feelings, these were things they understood together in quiet moments and rough kisses. But they didn’t _discuss_ , that was for other men.

Blondie didn’t say anything, but he shifted his leg slightly so it pressed against Tuco’s and that was answer enough.

For now.


	4. Chapter 4

“What are we going to do with you?”

Angel Eyes leaned against the door frame, looking down at Tuco, back in the chair, and Blondie sleeping fitfully again on the bed.

“We’ll disembark on Sad Hill,” Tuco said with a shrug. “Good a place as any to hide.”

“Alliance man says there’s a bounty, what’s to stop me turning you in?”

Tuco glared up at the man, cursing himself for not standing up when Angel Eyes first came in. Not that it would have made much difference, given their heights, but Tuco would at least have _felt_ less small. “You hate them as much as I do,” he said, “why would you give them what they want?”

“Pay’s good.”

“Good as one of your _unofficial_ jobs?”

Tuco had him there, knew from the way he cocked an eyebrow. He gave no other outward sign, but he didn’t say anything else about turning them in and that was better than nothing.

“We’re almost to Sad Hill,” he said. “I recommend you disappear as soon as we touch down.”

Tuco nodded. It was more than he’d hoped for, honestly, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’d find another way to Mission. Maybe he could convince Pablo to help… he’d seemed like he was starting to be sympathetic the last time they’d spoken. It wasn’t ideal, finding the help Blondie needed wasn’t going to be easy and Mission was just supposed to be a starting place. Sad Hill put them so far out from any facilities that could tell them what the Alliance had done that-

Blondie sat up, cutting off Tuco’s thoughts with a startled cry. He turned wide eyes to meet Tuco’s gaze and said, “They can see us.”

A shiver ran through Tuco as he reached out, laid a hand over Blondie’s on the pretense of calming the other man. Truth was, Blondie  seemed as calm as ever, it was Tuco who’s heart was racing now.

What the _hell_ was going on?

–

Sad Hill was as much of a desert hell as Persephone, but with less civilization. The terraforming hadn’t taken quite as well as the Alliance had hoped so they’d abandoned the settlers and colonists and moved on to the next hunk of rock in the stars. Maria, current mayor of what passed for a town there, wasn’t overly fond of Angel Eyes. He had killed her husband, after all.

It wasn’t personal, just business, but that didn’t mean Maria couldn’t interfere with _his_ business in retaliation. And he fully expected she would, which was why he was sending Wallace up to higher ground to check for snipers and to provide cover fire should things go awry. Clem, who’d called ahead to let Maria know they were on their way, rode with Angel Eyes out into the dusty and deserted rendezvous point, leaving their passengers to see themselves out.

Angel Eyes had told Tuco and Blondie that they better not be there when he got back. It was the nicest way he could think to get them out of his life, get rid of whatever curse their dealings with the Alliance threatened to bring down on the ship. Elam was still chained up in his quarters, Angel Eyes hadn’t decided what to do with him yet – would probably dump him on some other deserted rock on the way back to Persephone – and he tried not to think about all the things that could go wrong.

T here was work to be done and Shorty was more than capable of taking care of himself and the ship, despite general assumptions to the contrary, so Angel Eyes put it out of his mind to focus on the meeting growing ever closer.

He very much expected to get shot.

Again.

–

Wallace – the man’s name was Wallace – had been by. Elam mostly remembered that. Trying to explain, to get him to understand. That package was worth so much, _so much_. And the consequences if the Alliance didn’t get him back… Elam thought maybe Wallace understood, but it was hard to tell. His head hurt and he missed some of what Wallace said but…

But he didn’t miss cold hands at his wrists, bindings loosening.

He faded out of consciousness shortly after, but when he woke again he could pull away from the bulkhead. Could stand, move across the room. He could _leave_ , go out into the ship at large.

He had to…

He had to find a gun and then he had to find Ramirez and Blondie.

He leaned against the door frame, looking up and down the dim hall. His head was pounding but.

But he had to.

He pushed off the wall, propelling himself towards the cargo bay.

–

They were almost clear.

Tuco had a bag of their few belongings slung over his shoulder. Blondie was walking leisurely along like he hadn’t a care in the world, like he hadn’t spent hours trapped in nightmares. Pablo caught them in the cargo bay, was waiting for them, rather, hands hidden in the sleeves of his robes, gaze lowered. Pious as ever.

“I’m not turning myself in,” Tuco snapped before Pablo could say anything.

Pablo raised a hand. “ I  will not ask it of you,” he said. “I’m sorry.  I only want what’s best for you.”

Tuco narrowed his eyes, studying his brother. “ Pardon me if I don’t believe you,” he said.  He nudged his shoulder against Blondie’s arm, started steering them towards the  bay doors. 

“Tuco,” Pablo didn’t try to stop them, didn’t step in front of them, just spoke softly towards their receding backs. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I-”

His voice broke off, a thud shuddering through the floor.

Another voice rang out, echoing off the walls and ceiling, “Tuco Ramirez, you are bound by law to stand down.”

–

“Angel Eyes,” Maria greeted, perched on horseback with a rifle across her lap. “Brave of you to come by after last time.”

“Water under the bridge,” Angel Eyes said, getting down from the skiff and unhooking the straps holding the cargo to the back. “I assume you want to have someone inspect these before you pay?”

Maria smiled down at him. “Of course.”

She nodded at one of the men flanking her and he slid off his horse and made his way to the skiff. He glared at Angel Eyes  from under the brim of his hat  as he popped the lid on the cargo and opened it up, looking down at the  contents.

“All there?” Maria asked.

“All there,” he called back, closing the box back up.

Another of Maria’s men came over and together they lifted the box off the skiff and carried it to their own vehicle.  Maria tossed Angel Eyes a bag of coin and he slid it into his pocket.

“We settled?” Angel Eyes asked.

Maria studied him for a moment. “Now, the last time I saw you I said I wouldn’t let  you live next time,” she said. “If I’m reckoning correctly, this is next time, isn’t it?”

Angel Eyes raised his hands. “C’mon now, that’s all in the past. Best we just conduct our business and then each go our own way.”

Maria lifted her rifle, aiming it at Angel Eyes. “Past was you killed my husband,” she said.

A shot rang out, sending the hat careening off the head of the man who’d checked the cargo .  Wallace.

Angel Eyes ducked behind the back end of the Skiff, taking a few shots with his pistol as Clem started her up and steered her off away from the melee. Angel Eyes jogged along beside, then swung up onto the seat behind Clem, shooting back behind them as Maria and her men galloped after them.

It was going to be a close call.

–

In the end, there weren’t as many casualties as Tuco expected.

He was positive Elam was going to shoot him and take Blondie. Probably shoot Pablo on the way out for good measure, too. So he was getting ready to fight, pointless though it may have been, when a single shot rang out, echoing off the metal walls of the ship and sending Elam crumpling to the floor.

“Clean that up,” Angel Eyes called out, striding past and jogging up the stairs. Clem and Wallace dragged Elam to the bay doors and tossed him out as they closed and the ship began to ascend.

And Tuco stood by his brother’s crumpled body, hands still raised, Blondie silent beside him. They weren’t gone, weren’t out of Angel Eyes’s sight, and Tuco had no idea what was going to happen to them.

Probably a very short space walk.

–

Blondie and Pablo were playing chess in the kitchen. It was eerie, ethereal, the two of them sitting in silence. The only sound besides the hum of the ship was the click of the pieces on the board or the table.  Tuco left them to it, meandering up to the cockpit where Angel Eyes sat in the Co-pilot’s chair, gazing up at the stars.

“You’re letting us stay?” Tuco asked.

Angel Eyes shrugged. “The enemy of my enemy.”

“Are we? Your enemies?”

Angel Eyes flicked his gaze to Tuco, then back to the stars. “Don’t know yet.”

“What if we are?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.”

Tuco nodded, looking out at the stars  and wishing he could think of anything else to say. He had nothing to offer this crew. At least Pablo had some medical training from his work on Mission and Blondie was the best shot of anyone Tuco knew – though that was assuming whatever the Alliance had done to him hadn’t ruined that.

But Tuco.

Tuco was impulsive. He could be selfish and unreliable. He was the last thing a crew like this needed – the last thing Blondie needed, but they were each all the other really had.  Tuco knew, whatever Angel Eyes’s decision now, his days on this ship were numbered.

“We’ll stay until we find a place we can disappear,” he said.

Angel Eyes gave a sharp nod. “I understand,” he said. “But…”

“But?” Tuco prompted after a moment.

“But whatever’s in your man’s head, that could bring the Alliance down and, well,” Angel Eyes shrugged, “the Alliance could stand to be taken down.”

–

F itting both of them in the bed in their bunk wasn’t easy. They had to lay on their sides, bodies pressed close together. And even then, they barely fit. But Tuco wasn’t about to complain. It had been a long time since he’d had Blondie in his arms as they drifted off to sleep.

And while there was no guarantee it would last, they were safe for now and they had allies and that… that was something.

**Author's Note:**

> My plan for this was to end it with Angel Eyes/Blondie/Tuco but the ending didn't want to cooperate, so I may have to write a sequel for you one day...


End file.
